


'72

by PeopleGoBoom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Backstory, Drabble, Gardens & Gardening, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff Pride, Prequel, Single Parents, also she deserved some backstory, parenting, professor sprout becomes professor sprout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 00:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9048667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeopleGoBoom/pseuds/PeopleGoBoom
Summary: "What are you doing, young man? Are you bravely fighting a bowl of porridge, like a proper Gryffindor? Or do we have here a future Ravenclaw conducting a thorough study of which parts of your face is best equipped to absorb nutrition, with the hair and table serving as controls? Are you cunningly trying to trick your mother into giving you her full attention for as long as possible, little Slytherin? Or are you making sure everything is evenly distributed, as a good Hufflepuff will?"





	

Another hot afternoon in her tiny flat in Walthamstow. Pomona put on her favorite record again and bounced Andy on her hip so he wouldn't mess up the LP with his grubby little fingers. She took a few dance steps out into the kitchen, Andy bouncing along deligtedly, while Joni sang “I wanna make you feel free”. _Make_ , Pomona thought, not for the first time, no one can _make_ me feel anything. Not even free. She loved this song, though, this entire record. She grabbed Andy's porridge from the stove where it had cooled to eating temperature.  
  
He was halfway through his bowl of porridge when the door bell rang. “Diiinnng! Gamma! Gamma!” the toddler suggested eagerly. “No, I don't think it's grandma, Andy”. Not after the talk they'd had about showing up unannounced a few months ago, anyway. Her mother was good enough with boundaries once they had been stated extremely clearly, after all. She sighed and went to check who was at the door.  
  
The man outside looked the same as he had when she last saw him ten years ago, which was when she graduated from Hogwarts. For that matter, he looked a lot like he had when she started there. She realised she was staring in surprise and looked down to collect herself. Her mother would have been a lot more likely, explicit boundaries or no.  
  
“Hello, Pomona,” Dumbledore prompted. “It's good to see you looking so well.”  
  
“What's the matter?” she asked bluntly. There had to be something wrong, or he wouldn't be here. Not that she could imagine a single reason for him standing here at her door, wrong or right.  
  
“Why, nothing is wrong, dear.”  
  
“Oh. Well. Won't you come in, sir?”  
  
Her flat was a mess and she suddenly saw it as he would - it looked more like a greenhouse that someone was camping out in than it looked like an apartment. For that matter she was not feeling too presentable herself, right now, even though she was wearing what she wore most days: Her favorite jeans overall, one of her colorful blouses, and a bright green kerchief around her stubborn cloud of hair.  
  
Dumbledore strode into her living room, giving Andy a big smile. “What are you doing, young man? Are you bravely fighting a bowl of porridge, like a proper Gryffindor? Or do we have here a future Ravenclaw conducting a thorough study of which parts of your face is best equipped to absorb nutrition, with the hair and table serving as controls? Are you cunningly trying to trick your mother into giving you her full attention for as long as possible, little Slytherin? Or are you making sure everything is evenly distributed, as a good Hufflepuff will?” Pomona giggled in spite of her nervousness and confusion. Andy pointed at Dumbledore and laughed happily.  
  
“Would you care for some tea?”  
  
“If I know you at all you probably have some pleasant herbal concoction that would please an old man, don't you, Pomona? With sugar, please.”  
  
She put on some water to boil. If he knew her at all? Why on earth would he assume that he did? She would have assumed not, but on the other hand, he did seem almost omniscient, so perhaps he did. And this time he was right, her arsenal of herbal teas, muggle and magic, was considerable. After putting the kettle on she looked into the herb drawer, scanning the tops of old glass jars that had once held jams, olives, and the like. She had carefully labeled everyone, and alphabetized them just in case. She chose three jars and got to mixing, happily distracted by the familiar work. As she poured the boiling water into the tea pot she could hear Dumbledore happily chatting to Andy and the child's delighted laugh in response. What on earth was he doing here, dropping by for a cup of tea out of the blue as if it was the most normal thing? This made no sense whatsoever.   
When she returned from the kitchen, he was spooning porridge into Andy's mouth with a remarkably good technique. He seemed determined to stick with small talk, though.  
  
“That is a very nice Mandrake you have there.”  
  
“Thank you! I was afraid the screaming would scare Andy at first, but he thinks it's hilarious and just screams right back.”  
  
Dumbledore chuckled.  
  
“And your Jabberwockeys are really something. And that contraption around them is to protect Andy, I suppose?”  
  
“It is, but I have to say the protection goes both ways – I doubt that the Jabberwockeys would be very safe without it either.”  
  
“Did you construct it yourself?”  
  
“Yes, I couldn't really find anything that worked, so I got thinking and building.”  
  
“Clever of you, and handy too. Why would you need four Jabberwockeys, though? A little bark goes a very long way, doesn't it?”  
  
“Oh, it does, but I sell some hard-to-grow potion ingredients to a shop in Diagon Alley. It's not the best job, but it's a good one to combine with a baby, since I can grow everything right here in my apartment. And I get to use my skills, which is nice.”  
  
“Speaking of skills,” he said abruptly, “I am here to ask whether you would be interested in teaching herbology at Hogwarts.”  
  
“Excuse me?” That was some conversational wiplash.  
  
“I am here to ask whether you'd be interested in filling the position of herbology professor at Hogwarts.”  
  
“Oh. I suppose I would. For how long? All term?”  
  
“It is a permanent teaching position, so however long you would like to do that job, I suppose, but preferably at least three years.”  
  
It would be exactly the kind of job she would enjoy doing once Andy was off to Hogwarts himself, and she felt a longing for the greenhouses and the Hufflepuff common room so sharp that it seemed to pierce her chest. But of course it would be quite impossible.  
  
“Oh. Well, that's a surprise, and rather flattering too. I don't think it would be possible, though. Getting someone to take Andy for that long wouldn't be likely, and to be honest I wouldn't want to be away from him for that long either.”  
  
“You mistake me, Pomona. You can bring Andy, of course. The house elves can care for him while you teach, and I am sure he will have a crowd of both teachers and students clamoring to spend time with him as well.”  
  
She didn't exactly trust her voice.  
  
“You are really going to hire a single mum to teach at Hogwarts and raise a toddler there? You don't think there will be – well, an uproar?”  
  
“Oh, I'm sure it will, but sooner or later people will have to learn to accept the happy lifestyle. And as the bard says, the times they are a-changing,” he smiled.  
  
“That's a bit dated, but sure,” she choked into her cup. “I will need to think about it, but I think that would be… really good, actually.”  
  
“Oh, excellent! Just send your owl once you know for sure, won't you? And come as soon as you wish, more time for Andy to acclimatise, you know, but before August tenth, so we will have time to prepare the school year.”  
  
“I will let you know.”  
  
“Oh, and do let us know if you need any help safely apparating those Jabberwockeys.”

  
The record started scratching at the end of side 1, and she got up to stop the noise.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted Pomona to be a hippie. Of course I did. 
> 
> It made sense to me that Dumbledore would be better with toddlers than he is with teens. 
> 
> And of course he is in favor of "the happy lifestyle". And of course he's trying to be hip and failing miserably. It hurt my teeth to write him calling Bob Dylan "the bard", but it had to be done.


End file.
